


The ones who marked you

by MissTako



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, Scars, night talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7842211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTako/pseuds/MissTako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damen has a lot of scars. Laurent doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The ones who marked you

**Author's Note:**

> Captive Prince Week Day Two
> 
> Prompt: Scars

Laurent lightly touched the torn skin of his shoulder. He wasn’t vain. He didn’t care about the aesthetical part of it. Or about the psychological part, really. A knife through a shoulder was something bound to happen to him, and he was surprised it only happened once, to be honest with himself. He was a prince, and not a very kind one, and he knew that Govart was far from being the only person wanting to put a nice, sharp blade somewhere in his body, preferably several times and in several places.

But it was his only scar. The only visible one anyway. His other injuries either healed nicely, or weren’t visible in the first place. It made him ill at ease, to see a mark on his body, to know that there was an imperfection on his smooth, pale skin. He was supposed to be the untouchable prince. The cast iron bitch. Cast iron was not supposed to be able to scar. The fact that someone, someone he hated, was able to put such a permanent mark on his body made him want to rip his skin off, like it didn’t belong to him anymore.

He had no right to feel that way, really. He left many marks on other people. Many deadly marks. Under the cover of the bed, his hand found the back of his husband, and Damen stirred, his ravaged skin too sensitive.

No, really, he had no right to complain.

“Laurent?”

“What do you think of scars?”

“Not much.”

Laurent snorted. “I should have expected that answer.”

“I am always amazed when I managed to surprise you.”

“I am half asleep.” He didn’t know why his response sounded so defensive.

“And I am three quarters asleep. Maybe that’s why I am so unpredictable.”

Laurent hummed softly, his hand still on Damen’s back, drawing light pattern.

Damen lifted his head from the pillow to look at his husband.

“Are my scars bothering you?”

Laurent raised a brow.

“Are _your_ scars bothering _me_. My selfless barbarian, are your scars bothering _you_ would be a more logical question.”

“They are not,” said Damen, “Paschal healed them well.”

There was a long pause, and Damen shifted, dislodging Laurent’s fingers.

“Is your scar bothering you?”

Laurent didn’t reply, and Damen nodded slowly, like he understood. Even if there was nothing to understand, really. If there was, Laurent would have figured it out by now.

“I don’t have any opinion about scars. Like I don’t have any opinion about the size of toes, or the color of my skin. They are things that just are. But,” he continued hesitantly, “if you have an opinion about them, it’s perfectly okay, and we can talk about it, if you want.”

“About toes?” Laurent asked flippantly, “No. I wonder what kind of weird fetishes you are imagining I have.”

Damen didn’t react to that. He just waited.

“You are insufferable you know? Being all… patient like that.”

“It’s not like I could make you talk.”

“No, it is true. But still, you could at least try. I know I would. I hate people who cannot plainly explain what they want.”

Damen laughed.

“No you don’t. You’d hate your entire country.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

“The financial advisor and the help plan you set for the poor and orphans.”

Laurent frowned.

“I will have to have a word with the financial advisor.”

“Please don’t, it’s not his fault. It is confusing for the palace staff when the kings give them opposite orders.”

“Then it’s your fault.”

“Yes.” Damen gave him a flirty smile and caught his waist, rolling over so that Laurent was on the top of him. “You are going to have a word with me, then?”

“You would enjoy it way too much; you have a thing about my voice.”

“I do.”

“You are also too honest.”

“I am.”

“Stop it! You are distracting. I don’t remember what I was talking about, let’s sleep.”

“Okay. But if one day you want to talk. If you think that it might help. I will be here.”

“I know. I… It’s just… I don’t like having his mark on me. I don’t like that he was able to touch me, but I hate even more the fact that he was able to leave an irremovable mark on my body.”

Damen hugged him, and Laurent suffered through it, because he knew that Damen was probably trying to not break something. Them being in their royal chamber, the something in question would probably be very rare and very expensive. Not the kind of thing Laurent wanted to see broken. That was the only reason why he let Damen hug him for several long minutes. Of course.

“Actually we can.”

“What?”

“Remove them.”

“You can’t remove scars.”

“Well, not completely, but Akielon doctors have ways to attenuate scaring, even on old wounds.”

“Are your Akielon doctors some kind of mages?”

“No, they… I think they cut the wound open again, and fix it better. Something like that.”

“Your people really are barbarians.”

“It works, though.”

“Does it really?”

“You could ask.” Laurent tensed. “I could ask. If you want to see the result. It is not perfect. But it is better. It might help.”

“It might.”

Laurent didn’t know why exactly he was agreeing with Damen, since the idea of having anyone coming close to him with a sharp object was anything but comforting, but he felt calmer, and less likely to start clawing at his shoulder.

Maybe he would try. Or maybe he would finally manage to get over it, like he got over everything else. In the meantime, lying on Damen’s chest, his check over the scar left by Auguste, he felt almost peaceful. Almost like nor his scar, nor Damen’s, could prevent him from sleeping. Because it was part of him, part of them, part of a life that wasn't all bad, after everything.


End file.
